TRULY LIV'IN THE DREAM

L is off again to "The Property" this time. She just got home from Bear Lake, had the week from HELL and hit the high road. I don't blame her, I spent last Thursday and Friday in bed with the famous tachycardia. Fourteen hours worth, only to wake up with a hianus case of hives. Yeah, baby, I'm just living right. As I am wallowing in my misery, L calls to tell me she not only got a bad case of sun stroke, but sun poisoning as well. Boy, I'm telling you, it just doesn't get better than this.

In the mean time, the "boys" have been working on the T & L art studio. Yes, it is true that all the walls are up, the siding is on, the tile has been set and the furniture assembled. However, while painting the walls, drop clothes did not seem to be on the list of priorities. I spent two days scraping paint off the newly installed tile and praying that the Grand Canyon that was dug for the electrical work will be filled in soon before all of my lawn dies. The wheels of progress move ever so slowly and patience has never been a virtue I possess.

On the lighter side, grandma got the splint off of her shoulder, just in time to announce that the right shoulder is giving her some trouble and may need surgery. I could see this one coming a mile away. Perfect, eight more weeks of a huge pain in my rear end. But you have to take the humor where you can get it. I realized yesterday, while we were drawing straws to see who had to go visit grandma, how funny things are. Picture this, Katy, Wade and I are in the kitchen presenting our cases against going to the rehab center. This is how it went: Wade, "But I always have to pull out her chin hairs, and you know how disgusting those can be. Why doesn't she just wax like everyone else?" Katy, "Well, if you think that's bad, I had to clip her toenails. Don't they have people that can do that? And lets not mention that I have given her three manicures since she got there." "Well", I say, "She saves her poop attach until I get there and I am the one that has to pull down her pants and wipe her butt. Plus, I pay her bills and wash her clothes." In the end we all went, including the dog. She needed to see Duke, get her clean clothes and secure her supply of Diet Coke and Baby Ruth's. It is true. grandma is a pain, but at 94 she is still as mean and bossy as ever. We tow the line, believe me. She rarely goes a day without a visitor. God help us.

THE T & L SNAP WATCH

I have really had a crappy couple of weeks and L isn't exactly doing the "Happy Dance", but you would think that things would start to look up, wouldn't you?

So, the latest event to push me into blog mode was moments ago, when the frame store called to tell me my canvas isn't square. The single only painting I felt frame worthy, and the damn thing isn't square. Perfect! Solution, re-stretch the canvas, $75.00. Well, why not, there is only about $75.00 worth of paint on said canvas, and the canvas was $65.00 to begin with. Framing another $135.00. Sure, what's another $75.00. This must be the pain and suffering of a struggling artist.

That is the ending of the story, here is the beginning. Aside from the fact that my very special daughter-in-law, on a week by week basis, wants to be married or doesn't, I don't care either way, but when she doesn't, I become the proud owner of her husband, my son. In the past month he has been bounced here twice and quite frankly, my tired hurts. Add this to the continuing construction of the T & L Art Studio, grandma's daily problems at the "home"and my husband's dive into depression after the death of his mother and you're lookin' at a whole bucket full of stress. Less has never been more for me, so I can only assume that God was trying to teach me a lesson when he struck me with the POX. A disease so vile that I literally spent two days hallucinating, on a bed in Mesquite, while trying to entertain friends and celebrate my daughter's 18th birthday. Swine flu would have been a cake walk. This thing changed symptoms daily. Twelve days later, I'm proud to say that I can drink water without throwing up, can eat small amounts of food and have stopped shaking enough to type on the keyboard. The only residual effects are an extremely nasty attitude and sixteen rows of fever blisters that haven't quite healed. Wait, I think I had the nasty attitude before the illness.

During our morning discussion, not surprisingly, L voiced my same feelings. It is just a matter of time before someone gets their head snapped off. Mercury may be in retrograde, the planets may be unaligned, it may be karma, but I think we have just had a gut full. We are a fun loving duo. We give to our kids, the community, our friends and clients until it hurts and then one day, you wake up and wonder why they all expect so much. Our own fault, true, but I think there is a new Sheriff in town. Come on, L, let's saddle up and take a little vacation. Hugs, T.

THE BROWN COW

Okay, so, today was my day to visit mom in the rehab center. Once, again, they have withheld her beloved suppositories and she is backed up. By the grace of God, they produced the almighty suppository for her use, but it only worked half way. After an hour of straining and an unwanted extraction, the nurse brought in a concoction of prune juice and milk of magnesia. I, for one, would have added a little vodka, but what do I know. The nurse proclaimed this the magic "Brown Cow", which, can I tell you, sent me into waives of mirth. What a name, it conjures so many things, none of them good. Well, about the time they took her to lunch, said magic "Brown Cow" began to work and you can imagine the rest of the story. Kathy Griffin, where are you when I need you and L how can you leave me at a time like this?

Back to serious. L please continue the story of New Orleans. T

GONE AGAIN

Well, L is off to LA again to attend her Aunt's funeral, and since we have such a following, it is my responsibility to continue the story.

Travel has become one of the ways we have learned to cope with stress and everyday living, so it didn't surprise me when L announced that we needed to go to Memphis and New Orleans in the spring of 2007. My job is simply to make the trips happen. L gets the idea and I get the travel agent. Fortunately, Collette, our fabulous agent, has learned, over the course of time, not to question, just arrange. She is truly a special spirit!

June 2007 we are off to Memphis armed with our newly obtained Crown Room Card, vital necessities like hand sanitizer, toilet seat covers and a wine bottle opener. That's all you need, right?

L had done her homework and we had a list of all the hot spots: Beale Street, Sun Records, The Civil Rights Museum, and of course Elvis. Beale Street was our first stop.

BB King's club was amazing. Preston Shannon was so gifted with the tongue playing guitar that we spent two nights there. Get a visual here, ladies, it is something you have to see to believe. He was so good, we hardly noticed the two shooting victims just outside the club. Back at the room, we also didn't notice the fired alarm going off in the hotel. Fortunately, neither incident was fatal. Based on what we saw, it was just business as usual in downtown Memphis.

As with all of our adventures, Bill seems to attract friends. Coming back from the Sun Records tour, a random man started walking with us. Before we knew it, he and Bill were talking and smoking together. Bill is a kind man and I believe gave him some money and some smokes. Next morning, the same man was waiting outside the hotel to personally guide us to the Civil Rights Museum, smoking and talking all the way, broken up intermittently with a song or two,

Now, I will give some tips here. For those of you that want to go to Memphis, do see the Museum, go to Beale Street, do the Sun Records tour and sample all the fine dining. The Elvis thing....Well, being the "King" and all, he sure didn't have very good taste in much of anything. No offence to his fans, but, for real, the man had no aesthetic vision. My mother, who wore brown every day could put together a house better than he did. Wait, she did decorate like Elvis, that's probably why I am so judgemental.

I'm going to leave you with our little departure trip from Memphis and then L will fill you in on New Orleans. You've heard the song "The City of New Orleans". Well, it is a train that goes from Chicago to LA. It seemed romantic at the time to book four tickets on said train and travel from Memphis to New Orleans. Not so much. Departure time 6:00 AM. Arrival time 6:00 PM. In between time, a whole lot of bad smells, gut sucking toilets, horrific food, no smoking and uncomfortable seats. Up side, yes there is one, they had really bad wine, but it was better than no wine. Take it away L.

PONDERINGS

While L is off to appeals court and before I get off to COSTCO, I have just a few ponderings.

1. Does L really think that I would turn down the cases and cases of wine she secured in Cali? Not a chance. Let the wine flow and the painting begin.

2. Has anyone tried to purchase LDS garments lately, with no prior knowledge of how the system works? This one is a whole blog by it's self.

3. Do people who kill abortion doctors not find any irony in the killing of the doctors and their stance on PRO-LIFE? This one is hard for me to wrap my mind around.

4. If someone is released from jail, how is it that no one knows they still have a warrant out for their arrest. Again, mystifying.

5. This one is truly amazing to me: Why do good people die and the really bad ones stick around to bug the shit out of us?

Just a few things on my feeble little mind today.

On another note, on the off chance anyone truly reads this stuff, I would like to say that the passing of Ned Alger is a profound loss, not just to the University of Utah, but for all the people whose lives he touched. A finer man you will never meet. My love and condolences to his family.

Now off to COSTCO...Smokey Robinson at Red Butte tonight!

Happy Father's Day to all you dads. Love, T

RAINDROPS KEEP FALLING ON MY HEAD

I could say, "thank God and Greyhound," but it was the old convertible, not Greyhound that brought me home. This morning, going through Mesquite, Arizona and St. George, the weather was perfect - around 70-72 degrees. I had the top down, the wind blowing through my hair (it's a great excuse for not doing anything with your hair in the morning, and then blaming it on the wind)! So, I'm driving down the highway, with the ipod blasting away, I'm singing along with the tunes, when I look at the windshield and think to myself "are those tiny little raindrops?" Well, being the ever adventurer that I am, I didn't give it a second thought. Well, in retrospect, I should have given it a little more thought than I did, because about 30 seconds later, I am being pelted with a nice cold rain shower. It kind of reminded me of the scene in k-9 with Jim Belushi, where he makes the dog go through the car wash in the convertible so that it will get a bath. By the time I was able to pull to the side of the road, I was sopping wet and even after I put the lid up on the car (that's what my grandson Trace calls the top), the inside of the top kept dripping on me. Well, at least it kept me from falling asleep. You know, maybe it was my singing that caused the downpour!!!!

After I got home, I didn't realize just how many bottle of wine I purchased from the various wineries, until I started unloading it. T - it's a rough job, but someone has to help me drink all this wine. Are you up for the challenge?

Anyway, I'm back in one piece and absolutely cannot wait for Smokey Robinson tomorrow night. Cheers!!!!! L

PRAISE GOD

Thank God and all that is holy, L is on her way home. Just in time for appeals court and Smokey Robinson! Yes, the cell phones work, and we do use them, however, there is a comfort knowing she is right around the corner.

So much has happened since she left. Of course, so much happens when she is here. L's aunt died unexpectedly, the rain didn't stop, the weeds grew and our art studio is progressing nicely. I had a fight with the wonderful nursing supervisor at mom's care center, only to find out she was a previous client of L's, go figure and the kicker, mom got a boyfriend, she didn't want in rehab. Fortunately, for him, "Matt" left the facility yesterday.

You may wonder how we decided who would be L and who would be T. Mom pretty much decided that for us. L was always her favorite. L was well educated, brilliant, funny and wise, while I was a little bit loopy, not so bright and a loose cannon. After watching the movie for the umpteenth time it was clear which parts we should play. Thanks, mom.

Go forth and prosper. I am off to buy ceiling fans, track lighting and pay mom's bills.

See you soon L. Love you, long time, T.

WHAT THE HELL?

Okay, so today is our last day in Santa Barbara. We decided that we would spend it at the beach, rather than at the wineries or shopping. The sun was out, the dolphins were playing in the water and it was peaceful and serene. So, we’re sitting there enjoying the day and this couple walks past us with two small children (boys), probably 9 months old and 3 years old. So, as I look over, I see the two kids are playing in the sand bare ass naked. Now, no one really cares about that, but I watch the mom chastise both of them about keeping a hat on (I guess so that their faces won’t get sunburn). What about the butts and nuts?

Your turn T ……… I’ll be home soon with wine and t’s

THE TRIP HOME

Before I get to the trip home from Carmel, there are a couple of other things that T forgot that were ever so special. First, T and I were both impartial to Doris Day, one way or the other. But, after being bitten by fleas in our rooms, having to hang out the windows of our rooms to get any reception on our cell phone, and watching the dogs poop while we were eating, we could not longer go along with “ke sera, sera”. It was war. The hotel was plastered with posters of Doris in her various movies. T was determined to draw a moustache on Doris with a sharpie before the trip was over. This was more difficult than one would imagine, since the hotel lobby area was never empty. T had one chance; however, one of our fellow Artista gals came out of no where just as T was ready to perform some truly magnificent artwork on Doris.

One other most eventful part of our trip was going to the mall. I don’t believe that I have ever been in a mall quite like the one in Carmel and I’m no sissy when it comes to shopping. I have shopped from coast to coast. But, truly, I have never been in a shopping center where there are dog’s water dishes outside of the stores. Now, when I shop, I am preoocupied with the shops and what is in the window, than what is on the ground outside of the shops. So you can just imagine the words that I used when I walked out of one of the shops and put my foot directly into the dog’s water dish. Let’s just say, it was another of my tourette’s incidents!!!

My sopping wet foot is a great segway to the trip home. We didn’t have any maps going on our trip, because the car had GPS. Bill programmed the address in before we left and it did splendidly at telling us when to turn, stop, or go. The trip home; however, was something else. Because Bill wasn’t there to program the GPS, I put in the address to home and the GPS configured the return trip. We followed it exactly. After driving for about an hour, we passed a field of windmills. I looked at T and she looked at me, and we both had that OMG look on our face. We didn’t pass windmills on our way to Carmel, so we were certain that we were lost. Getting off on the next exit, we immediately headed to a local gas station to get a map, in hopes of finding out way home. During the drive; however, T had gotten comfortable and had kicked off her shoes. Upon exiting from the car to get the map, T put her shoes on and headed into the store. After a few minutes, T came out armed with maps and some G-2 (which is great for tachacardia!). I was okay with that until I saw that she was laughing. Now, knowing T, God only knows what that could mean. After getting back in the car, she said, “well, you know how you stepped in the dog’s water dish, and we laughed and laughed about it? Well, when I walked into the store, my feet felt kind of funny and when I got into the store, I looked down and realized that my shoes were on the wrong feet!”

Needless to say, that was the highlight of our trip home. Oh, remember earlier when I described our amazingly wonderful rooms in Reno on our way to Carmel, well, we forgot to make a reservation for our rooms on the way home – big, big, big, big mistake! Everything that the other rooms were, these rooms were not. Because the hotel was full, we ended up in rooms with a Murphy bed, with a lovely bar right through the middle. We would have slept on the floor and been more comfortable, but God only knows what we could have picked up from the carpet!!!

We did get home in one piece with all of our art work with no other casualties and, after five minutes of being home, we were already planning our next adventure.

Hugs & Kisses – L

The Adventure

We both forgot to mention some of the most critical times on our journey to Carmel. At this age the brain cells are dying off in sheets, forget the cell by cell demise, so it truly is not surprising.

First and foremost was the truck we saw just outside of Wendover. Over the course of time we have traveled together, as a foursome to many locals. On these journeys typically Dennis drives, Bill navigates and L and I sit in the backseat holding on for dear life. Because Bill navigates and keeps Dennis on the straight and narrow, Dennis began to refer to him as Jesus. As in Jesus saves, Jesus guides, etc. Now some of you may be offended by this reference, however, Dennis is Hispanic and almost every Hispanic family has at least one Jesus, and secondly, Bill is the nicest guy you will ever meet. So we are just outside Wendover when a truck pulls onto the freeway displaying a sign on the back "Jesus Saves". That truck was with us all the way to Reno.

Now for the best part...... L decided that since this was our chance at a Thelma and Louise trip we needed at least one trucker to honk and wave so we could be true to the movie. Like I said, the brain cells are dying off fast and when that trucker finally came along and honked and waved, I had to think for a minute before I stopped L from flipping him off and waiving the gun. Well, we got parts of the movie right.

CARMEL BY THE SEA

Playing food critic, much like Jane and Dharma playing Canadian lesbian Mounties from the Dharma and Greg series, was an extremely fun adventure. It is always important to broaden your horizons and live a little.

Now to Carmel. We kind of knew we were in trouble when the registration desk had more dog treats than candy, but undaunted we checked into our flea infested rooms with, no less, a real key. I don't know what Doris Day smokes, but for real, we love dogs, we have dogs, we appreciate all that dogs offer in life, but when they can eat in the same dining room, drink in the same bar, and poop on the rug, but you can't smoke on the premises, we had a problem. Better than that, there was no parking for the hotel, except a feeble 6 car lot at the end of the street. I literally had to lay in a parking spot while L moved the car, just to get a space. Needless to say, parking was so hard to come by, we opted to walk everywhere until our departure.

The first night we spent getting to know the other women attending this soiree(the Artista Safari). We had a mother, daughter team from San Jose, a teacher from Canada, two friends from Hawaii, a retired woman from southern Cal a Health Care Administrator from Michigan, and a discipline Vice Principal from the LA area. Very nice women, all, but they so were not ready for T & L. We became the class mascots, or clowns. Who knows, either way we're good with it.

It became apparent after the first session that L and I had different pallet preferences. She stuck with the tried and true classics, black, white and red, while I continued my 60's - 70's theme of orange, red, pink, purple and green. Please note here that while L and I are true soul-mates, sisters of the heart and all of that, there are many areas that we are opposite, making us even better as a team and more deadly.

At the end of the four day extravaganza, we proudly carried home our paintings, ready to take on the entire world of art. L presented her husband with a beautiful collection of black, white and red, while I gave mine the hippie montage.

Since L gave you the P-I-G reference, I will let her continue here.........T

2008 Road Trip

As T said, we are still standing. At times, I know that I look back and wonder how, but we are. While it would have been easier at times to just curl up in a ball and never get out of bed, we both, somehow, found the strength to get through another day. Of course, on more days than I can count, it was vodka and each other. We both know that we have to be strong for our family, so we try to silently fall apart when no one else is watching. After two hard blows, and the regular day to day stress, T and I decided that because the one thing that we learned was that life is short, and also because we have spent the majority of our lives taking care of everybody else, we needed to start taking care of ourselves. Thus, the 2008 Road Trip was born.

I was sitting in a continuing legal education seminar and happened to be reading USA Today. I came across an article written about girlfriend trips and, in particular, creative safaris for women. It was a one week abstract art class. While my father was an artist, I didn’t inherit his talent. That being said, I figured that talent wasn’t necessary, since it was abstract (not as easy as it sounds). I immediately called T and told her that I found just the trip for us. It was in Carmel, CA, it was only women, and we could stay at the quaint little hotel owned by Doris Day. What could be better? T, being the ever so optimistic one, said, “Great, when do we leave?”

After our reservations were made and confirmed, we decided that getting to the destination is just as important as the destination itself. So we decided driving that driving my convertible, with the top down, wind blowing through our hair, and blasting the music, would be just the ticket. I immediately set out looking for visors for our trip. Not finding anything with bling (which you can never have too much of), I gathered up my rhinestones, lettering, and a few other incidentals and made two stunning visors to memorialize our trip. I then loaded some T&L favorite tunes on the ipod, and we were ready to roll.

Aside from everything else, T and I are in search of the perfect Martini, the perfect Crème Brulee and the perfect Lobster Bisque. When we are not playing with construction or the law, we are playing food critics. We decided that we would drive as far as Reno the first day and then drive into Carmel on the second day. When we arrived in Reno, our rooms were everything and more. It was a great start. We then went to the restaurant where we were greeted with a fabulous martini. After telling our waiter that we were in search of the perfect crème brulee and lobster bisque, he immediately brought us a sample of the lobster bisque from one of the other restaurants in the hotel (since it was not on the menu at the restaurant where we were eating). It was wonderful. Then to top off the meal, he brought us not one, but two crème brulees (again not served at our restaurant). We then played a little pai gow poker where I won enough money to pay for the nursery furniture for my granddaughter that was due a few months later. Day One – absolutely perfect.

Now, I don’t want to be a story p-i-g, so T will tell you about day two. Take it away T….

T & LThe Continuing Story...

Yes, indeed, PTA was a complete riot. We set a standard that, to my knowledge, has not been parallelled for that particular elementary school. While PTA was fun, as L said, we began to broaden our horizons. Both being single mothers, we began taking our kids on little weekend get-aways together, have BBQs and parties, sometimes for no apparent reason. We celebrated every holiday together, birthdays and our daily grind. L became more like a sister to me than just a best friend. We have weathered it all and we did it together.

Over the course of time, it became hard to tell where L's family ended and my started. All of our kids regarded us as their mothers. Fortunately if L was tied up with school, I was there and if I got bogged down with work, she was there. It was the perfect scenario.

I'm going to tell this story, because I've already had some wine today and I feel strong enough to do it.

In November of 2004, L's youngest son passed away. This was a particularly hard blow to us all. He was a vibrant, outgoing, smart, handsome kid that could charm the pants off of the most hardcore person. He was also my youngest son's best friend and my son. In hindsight, I guess this was to prepare us for things to come.

"The Stick", as he was known, played football. To honor him and his memory, we all had his jersey number on the back of our cars. Many people in the area recognized this fact, but few outside of the immediate family displayed the big 36. Two years later, in December of 2006, L called me and asked who drove a white Blazer. Apparently there had been an horrific accident and the only thing left of the car was the number 36. We both knew who it was. My middle son passed away in that accident. My youngest son was critically injured. The only way the police knew to contact us was by that number 36, the car was so demolished. Even in death, we were tied together.

Yes, indeed, we have been through it all, but we are still standing. I will say that for me, it is possible, I wouldn't have made it without L and her strength and love.

Back to you L. Lets talk about the road trips or some other lighthearted aspect, now that we got this out of the way. Hugs, T

How T&L Met

As promised, I am about to tell you how T and I met. Hillary Clinton once said “it takes a village of people to raise a child.” Well, as it turns out, T and I were that village. Everyday after school, I would wait for my youngest son outside of his classroom and T would wait for her youngest daughter. Seems we were the only parents to be doing this, so it was inevitable that we would meet. One day while we were waiting for the kids to get out of class, T and I started talking and aside from the fact that T’s neighbor was my sister’s boss, she also knew my sister. T was the PTA President and while I did want to be her friend, I tried my utmost to keep a low profile (and for those of you who know me, this isn’t easy), because I just didn’t want to get “roped” into PTA. After all, I was already my kid’s room mother and baseball coach (not to mention I was going to school full-time). I thought my plate was full – apparently that plate was only “half empty” as it turns out. And as they say, the rest they say is history!!!

As is said in the Celestine Prophecy – there is no such thing as a coincidence. T and I were meant to meet, since our lives parallel the other with the good, the bad and the ugly. In the days to come, you will see for yourself why if I have a water leak, or fall down, I call T and warn her about her coming attractions and vice versa!

Anyway, shortly after T and I met, her husband, Wade, passed away. Of course, he was as involved with the PTA and all of the kids as T and, as a consequence, he died at our kids’ school while building the shed for the earthquake kits. I am truly sorry that I didn’t get to know Wade; but even not knowing him, we share one very important thing – our love and gratitude for T.

After Wade’s death, T & I and our kids became inseparable. And, yes, she did finally rope me into the PTA. But what a PTA it was. If you live in Utah, you can appreciate the accomplishment of bringing “coffee” to the lives of the dedicated and underappreciated elementary school teacher. We were a hit. PTA was also a little easier for T and me than some of the mothers, since at any given time, we had half the school at one of our houses. While some called us “kool aid” moms, those close to us called us anything but. While the regular PTA meetings were held at school, the important planning meetings were held at T’s house. Of course, working that hard made us thirsty. That is when we embarked upon one of our favorite drinks – the “Crantini” For those of you who have never experienced this taste sensation, a Crantini is composed of cranberry juice, midori, triple sec and vodka. What better way to get your fruit and vitamins. And, while these many meetings required numerous trips to our State Liquor Store, we were able to conduct business while obtaining supplies, since one of our kids’ teachers worked there.

Take it away T . . . !!!!

Dr. Doolittle

And speaking of wine, while I have been drinking my way through each and every winery in the Santa Barbara area that I can find, Bill has been making friends. The first night we were here, he was outside having a cigarette (no shock there), when something startled him. That something was a skunk. Go figure. But instead of just walking away in the hopes that it would leave, Dr. Doolittle promised it bacon in the morning. And, not one to go back on his word, he made sure that his new little friend got bacon for breakfast. And, if that wasn’t enough, while having lunch on the wharf, he talked to the pigeons (only because he couldn’t feed them, since there were signs everywhere saying “don’t feed the birds”). The funny part is, he wasn’t the one drinking!!! Hugs & Kisses, L

I know that it is your turn to blog, L, but while you are enjoying the sun and ocean, I too, have been having a great water experience.

So, we all know that Mom is a "pill". She virtually was thrown out of the hospital and almost hand carried to the rehab center, just to get rid of her. I also suspected that she was not "playing nice in the sand-box" at her new home away from home. Ever the optimist, I had hopes, only to be dashed in the most traumatic way today.

My mission was to retrieve her blue robe, green robe, tweezers, and flat toothpicks from the house (I would have gone for a bottle of wine and Excedrin). I was also informed that she probably would be in the gym when I arrived. I had been informed that she spent time in the "siccuzi". Briefly I wondered what she wore in the "siccuzi" since I hadn't been required to retrieve a bathing suit. To my dismay, I found out what she wears...Let me say here that I am currently typing this by braille, temporarily blinded with what I found.

Apparently, Mom did not want to go to breakfast, prefering instead to badger the nurses for yet another sopository. She then refused lunch, siting the people she ate with were only concerned with THEIR medical problems and not hers. After, what I can only assume was sheer torture for the nurses, she was left alone in the "siccuzi" buck naked, and that is how I found her, tits up and screaming Don't leave me here alone."

Kathy Griffin, if you are out there, I will gladly trade mothers with you. I'll tip the box and keed that wine glass full. You take my mother and you are guaranteed material for life and a spot on the "A" list. Hugs to you all, T

Okay, so L's story is the perfect segway into the drama I am currently living, here iin SLC (while my partner in crime is living it up in sunny California). Mom is 94 and totally preoccupied with her bowel movements. I guess when you reach her age, that's about all you have left.

Two weeks ago, Mom informed me that she needed some stool softeners. I purchased said products, delivered them with a cautionary note of "Don't go overboard!". Of course, she promptly popped two pills and when they didn't work, in her time frame, decided, in her infinite wisdom, and years of experience, popped two more. I don't have to tell you what the next call was about.

Now, fast forward to June 1st. Mom is scheduled for a total shoulder replacement surgery. We are all concerned about the surgery, but once again, there is no talking her out of it. She comes through the surgery with flying colors and Tuesday morning is ready to resume the battle of the bowel movements. She asks the nurse to bring her a suppository. When the nurse declines the doctor is promptly called, along with the physical therapist. Both refuse her request. Undaunted, and sly like a fox, Mom asks the nurse for her purse. You guessed it, she has a two year's supply (this is a cultural joke) stashed in her purse. We found her one armed trying to ram that go old suppository up her butt. Yeah, baby, livin' the dream, big time, here in good old Utah.

Have fun L! Back to you.

I was going to explain how T and I met, but something came up today that I think merits discussion. Because my husband spent 10 long, cold, lonely months working in Rock Springs, Wyoming (which we fondly refer to as “Rock Bottom”), his reward was going to the beach after the job ended. Well, here we are in Santa Barbara, CA – one of my most favorite places in the world, not to mention great wineries.

So, after purchasing some great wines: Wrongo Dongo and Evil, (I like to buy based on the names) – and one very special bottle (Kenwood – Artist Series) for the christening of the Thelma & Louise art studio, we decided to go to two of the local winery tasting rooms. This is a great experience if you’ve never done this. You pay $5.00 and get to sample six of their wines and you even get to keep the glass. That being said, after the second wine tasting room, I was feeling pretty good. What could be better - a slight buzz from the wine, being able to buy the wine without going to a state owned store; the sun shining on my face and fresh ocean air.

So after leaving the wine tasting rooms, we thought we would go to the grocery store and pick up a few needed items. As I got to the store, the 12 partial glasses of wine (and the water in between to freshen my palate) hit. I immediately headed for the restroom. Time was of the essence! I moved much quicker than normal and just in the nick of time, or so I thought. As I approached the door for the women’s room, you can imagine my amazement, not to mention disgust, when I realized that I need to pay a quarter to use the facilities. You have got to be kidding me. Well, because I was trying to travel light, I had no change. Fantastic. I was headed to the cash register to get change when, fortunately, my husband came walking in (anyone that knows Bill also knows that he would be having a cigarette before coming into the store). Much to my relief, he had not one, but two quarters. Thank goodness, since he needed to use the men’s room. Since the bathrooms were not unisex, if he had only had one quarter, he would have either had to pretend that he was a very hairy woman or found a tree somewhere!!!

So, my advice to all who go to California – if you think that you will need to use the restroom somewhere other than your own room, bring quarters!

Stay tuned - tomorrow I will tell the tale of how T and I met.

T & L began their adventure thirteen years ago. They became good friends, livin' the dream. Both single mothers, they pursued careers in construction and the law, odd, but true. They shared good times and bad (death, ciaos and mayhem). Basically living parallel lives.

Over the course of time they have learned that life is too short. Life is worth living and friendship is a blessing from the angels. If you are lucky enough to find that one person that will stand by you through thick and thin, then you have achieved Nirvana.

Follow them as they try to become Bohemian artists, drink their way through Memphis, South Carolina and New Orleans. Plan baby showers, weddings and try to slip coffee into an all Morman PTA meeting. Please join us on this continuing adventure......